


Untitled

by Siria



Category: Thoughtcrimes
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, Brendan tries valiantly to get Freya excluded from the office picnic games, and every year he fails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hebrew_hernia, for the prompt 'kissing.'

Every year, Brendan tries valiantly to get Freya excluded from the office picnic games, and every year he fails—after all, it's hard to get the other agents to understand why it's a bad idea to arm Freya with a water pistol if they don't know that she's a telepath. Brendan's a crack shot, even has some field experience as a sniper, but there's no point shinning up a tree to ambush someone if Freya knows what you're planning before you've so much as looked at an oak.

"This is really unfair," he whines at her as they're both filling their pistols at the faucet. In jeans and a faded NSA softball t-shirt, her hair pulled back in a sloppy braid, Freya looks like an innocent college student; the gleam in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks gives the lie to that, though.

"Don't be such a baby," she tells him with mock-solemnity. "I'm not going to be taking advantage."

"Will too!" Freya is the reason the inside of Brendan's cubicle is plastered with pictures of Scrappy Doo.

She smirks. "Okay, maybe I will. Just not... like that."

"How are you—" Freya catches him off guard, spraying him right in the face. Water gets in his mouth and up his nose and leaves him blinking.

"See?" Freya beams at him, then goes up on her tip toes to kiss the damp tip of his nose. "Absolutely no use of you-know-what you-know-when."

"You are—you're—" Brendan has several ideas about what she is, but he can't quite come up with the words to articulate them.

"That's okay," she says sunnily. "I know!" And pats him on the rear as she saunters off, pistol cocked.


End file.
